


Fire-Calls and Worries

by Ladderofyears



Series: 365 [24]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Curses, M/M, St Mungo's Hospital, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 15:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20360479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: Draco gets a Fire-Call from Ron. Harry is in the hospital.





	Fire-Calls and Worries

There was nothing in the world that Draco feared more than a fire-call from Ron Weasley. 

Not because he hated the man, or because he feared him. It wasn’t that, not at all. Draco _liked_ the wizard. Ron was both his husband’s best friend and his Auror partner. Whenever Weasley’s skinny, freckly face appeared in Draco’s Apothecary fireplace it only meant one thing: bad news. 

_Harry was in St. Mungos. Harry had been hit with a Stinging Hex. Harry’s had his memory sliced_. 

Draco braced himself for whatever Weasley was about to say. This was a hazard, Draco supposed, of life married to the Deputy Lead Auror. 

That didn’t mean it was easy though. Continual worry never left him, though. It was always there, a hidden, constant anxiety prickling beneath Draco’s skin; a steadfast fluttering headache that hovered within his unconscious. 

“What’s happened, Weasley?” Draco demanded, crouching down closely to the flames. He could feel the heat of the green fire ripple against his skin as Ron replied, his voice stuttering with worry. 

“Harry was injured, Malfoy. A curse. Not more than half an hour, forty minutes ago-” Ron paused, muttering to a person Draco couldn’t see. The voices were mumbled; Draco couldn’t see what was being said. He pursed his lips with annoyance. After a moment the Auror continued. 

“Draco. That was the Healer. He said not to panic. Harry is awake. Lucid. But he asked if you could come in-” 

“On my way,” Draco replied, _Accio’ing_ his coat and pressing a _Colloportus_ onto the Apothecary door. “Which curse?” he asked, heart in his mouth. 

Nothing unforgivable, Draco prayed, refusing to utter the phrase aloud. 

“None of us were sure,” Ron admitted. “It wasn’t anything we recognised. Harry’s whole body was encased in a green, glowing light. He was out cold for a few minutes… I couldn’t rouse him. We’re in the Curses and Spell Damage Department, Draco. Fourth floor-”

Draco didn’t need to be told twice. 

Within moments he’d flooed to St. Mungos, not caring about the swirling, whirling magic that always left him nauseous. 

This wasn’t the fist time that he’d made this trip, but Draco always hoped it’d be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xx


End file.
